sky's still blue
by lydiamartins
Summary: Happiness does not seem to be on the menu; hogwarts, and a girl who never grew up - for coppertone wars' twelve days of christmas challenge, level three, part one!


**.:sky's still blue:.**  
_la fin de la guerre_

_._

_When adults say, "Teenagers think they are invincible" with that sly, stupid smile on their faces, they don't know how right they are. We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We think that we are invincible because we are. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail._

_john green -― the fault in our stars_

_._

It starts off a brilliant journey - Hogwarts, that is.

There are secret passageways and doors that disappear from time to time, quirky individuals inside of the doors; ghosts stream in from the ceilings or the bathrooms, moaning as they pass through first-years, always getting a laugh. There are dreams of new adventures, the first time that one of them is given points for their House, and the House becomes their family. The members of the house want to bring pride to their House, by proving themselves.

There's the magical feeling of success - when one's about to fall asleep and a reaction finally happens in their Potions' pot and they're somewhat released from their daily regimen with Professor Snape. Success is small, and rewarded - it's sometimes as simple as that. Intelligence and bravery and loyalty are valued above all, cowardice and ill intent saved to be useful later in life, qualities that will only result in a horrible future, is what they're taught.

There are children with the widest dreams in their eyes, friendships formed like bonds between a family - strong and everlasting - and you think that that's just the way Hogwarts should be like, like a home. There are platters of delicious looking food which appear like a cornucopia upon velvet tables, and children with their flannel pajamas eagerly dive in as if this is the last meal that they will consume ( and in a world like this, maybe it is the last meal that they will consume, and nothing can be taken for granted, nothing at all ).

There's libraries filled with books and classrooms filled with students with pens and ink, as if society has jumped back to the nineteenth century; a vintage look suits the old place. There are rumors of unicorns and dragons and above all, the ability to make one's House proud of them - to be the best wizard, to be the top of one's class, to be the reason why your House wins the competition.

There's a game called Quidditch - there are children who sit in the middle of freezing cold winters, their cheeks turned red as they scream loudly for the House that they support, different colored scarves and robes donned, squeezed tightly to insure the most amount of warmth. There's a boy who makes funny remarks into the microphone, and a girl who keeps on crashing into the 'walls' of the stadium.

Sometime, in the middle of third year, there are new doors unlocked - there's a place called Hogsmeade.

All of the rumors and the dreams that you had heard about Hogsmeade, they were through - it was a little hamlet, nestled between two valleys with the sun also rising in the far distance, a bright color reflecting upon the dim town, lightening it into a more favorable way; snow was covered in a precise layer, growing back every time a snowball was picked up, nothing but pure magic.

Mistletoe hangs underneath the entrances of the doors, and enchanted candles hung in the trees; there were rumors of enchanged rooms and secret passageways, but everything about the quaint little town already felt like home, though you have already been there twice.

There's a shop that carries jocks and tricks to fulfill a prankster's wildest dreams, and there's a candy shop - the most delicious looking sweets, succulent, are piled upon one another - there are creamy chunks of ice cream and glimmering pink pieces of coconut, rich pieces of caramel creating a pattern of a heart, light pink candy melts, and of course, blowing gum (which filled rooms with blue bubbles for days on end) and ice mice, and pepper imps, and exploding bonbons, and it's perfect.

.

But there was a price to pay for the happiness - and it wasn't that big of a price to pay, not at all, not for the rewards.

There were children back home, back in the Muggle world, who would taunt you, saying that you weren't good enough which was the only reason why you had gone to an Academy for juvenile delinquents. All of the lies start piling up upon one another, and you make a mistake, a big one - you fall in love with a Muggle boy back home, and every year when you go back to Hogwarts, you have to lie to him and say that he really wouldn't want to see where you're going to, even though that's all you want - for him to be with you, every step of the way.

Eventually, you have to set him free - because he's too good for you, always waiting for your return, and sometimes, in the excitement of the journey, you forget about him, and there's somebody else on your radar, and you're not good enough for him - not for anybody who couldn't understand what you're going through, and nobody really does.

Your parents don't know that you're a wizard-in-training; all they know is that you've been requested to go to a special Academy, perhaps one for spies, all the way in London, and that it's a yearly academy. There's a price to pay - a literal one - but you parents have never had questions about spending the money so they send you and your older sister off to an academy, just a daydream away, that's all it is. Sometimes, you don't think that Hogwarts can be real - you've told the children that you babysit in the Muggle world that magic really does exist, but even they don't believe you.

Not even the children believe in magic anymore - not even the children.

.

And sometimes, you have to decide what's more important - staying safe inside of the castle walls and having nothing, or maybe taking a risk, and maybe, just maybe, being able to have everything - and you go against everything that you've ever learned and fight. There's not much fighting going on in the war - it's a brutal massacre, people shouting incantations at one another, and then there's a bright blue flash, and then there's nothing. The horrors of war do not seem to be worth the spoils.

Zonko's shop has been closed up since the war has started; the bodies are piling up faster than people bury them. There are subtle reminders of plagues that you have learned about in school - how there were mass graves, and sometimes, at night, you attend the vigils inside of the castle until there isn't any place that is safe anymore - they've taken away everything in your home.

It is night, now —more like a dusk than a midnight, colors of the ever distant horizon shining in the distance, fiery and cold all the same, their fires and ices intermingling into the starry sky, transitions in the midst of taking place. You are running now, far, far away, if only if running could give you some space, some distance away from torment and torture; even while you are running, your heart is breaking, yet you run farther away, each time something goes wrong, as if you could run away from everything. They call you crybaby, coward, that you run away from all your problems, not knowing that if they were you they would rather kill themselves then go with you go through.

Happiness does not seem to be on the menu.

Once upon a time, you were one of those typical young girls, like those ones of the newest generation, blaring out songs at the top of their lungs, kissing new guys until they find themself half-drunk, intoxicated by the sweet wine and poison of love, but that was once upon a time, in a land impossible to reach once more. Sometimes, you wonder what life would be like if you weren't a wizard - but then you realize, walking through the horrors of war; every gruesome moment of the battlefield is worth more than a simple life.

(But what's wrong with simple? It's easier after all, and the simple life draws you in with its magnetic pulse and empty promises.)

Hogsmeade is nothing more than a city that once was; there are remainders of wood and bodies lie on the floor, turrets crush innocents as they try to escape, cornered by the thousands of enemies that surround their home from all sides; they are held under siege, but it is more than that. The enemy does not care to be patient - the enemy wishes to kill all of them, especially one, or convert them to his side, nothing more than a child who can't get his own way, but much more powerful than a child is the enemy, and Hogsmeade has never looked less like a Christmas Card to you.

You stare at a haunted reflection of yourself in the mirror; darkened ringlets are singed near the end, and you have a sudden feeling that you should cut some of them out, to make everything even - a balance of some sort, even if there is no more balance left. Your eyes are a dark brown color, and used to be inspiring, filled with hope and exhiliration, pure innocence, now filled with the darkened knowing - and to think, if you're this affected by the aftermath of the battle, how is everybody else faring?

There are children that are now orphans, taking photographs on busy London streets, setting aside the world of magic in order to survive, because though Hogwarts might have seemed their home once, they do not have a home anymore - they are too old for Hogwarts, and they must move on.

Don't panic darling - the sky's still blue, and you know that you'll make it through.

.

**notes | **well, this is for the coppertone wars' twelve days of christmas challenge, level three, part one ( favorite character(s ), for the **25 days of christmas challenge on HPFC (**prompt; family**), **and i hope you guys like this!

this is short and rushed but um -


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